Of pure a flame when still the night,
when undisturbed the noble quiet.
A hope reborn, a bud of light,
a yearning burns a candle bright.

Leave melting wax to weep and dry,
like ancient tears, solidify.
The end, adieu, to reason why,
but flames forbid to bid goodbye.

Consumed the dark, rid night of fear,
come closer to the flame, my dear.
And let the light come commandeer,
what loved and lost to reappear.

To wither with the waning glow
and yet the flame won't let her go.
Perhaps the light a love bestow,
alas, when doused but darkness know.